Apple Blossoms
by Anariel Brightsword
Summary: Turin hopes his newfound love for Niniel will be the end of his doom. Oneshot.


**Apple Blossoms**

"Turambar! Look!" Turin lifted his dark eyes to see Niniel laughing as blossoms from the apple tree drifted down around her, soft as snow. She spun in a circle so that her skirts billowed around her and the petals in the air danced. He smiled at her joyful face.

How different she was from the frightened creature he had first seen lying on the mound of Haudh en Elleth! Her eyes had been full of anguish, her drenched hair clinging to her white shoulders and her heart beating fast as a dying bird's. Now, he looked at her, the soft blue gown bringing out her eyes, her cheeks flushed, and realized how happy he was to see her so full of life. To be truthful, with Niniel beside him, he knew more happiness than he had in all of his six-and-twenty years.

Laughing as Niniel tried to catch the falling petals in her hands, Turin strode over to the base of the apple tree and plucked a few slender stems off of a low hanging branch. He plopped down on the grass, and began to weave the flower covered twigs into a pattern. Interested, Niniel sat down beside him, peering at his work.

"What are you making?" Wide gray eyes regarded him curiously, and looking back into them the words he had been about to say left him completely. Then he leaned forward and tapped one long finger against her nose.

"Wait and see," He grinned, continuing to twine the twigs together. Niniel laid back on the ground, gazing up at the sky pensively. It was a moment before she spoke again.

"I do not remember such a sky," she said softly.

Turin glanced at her. "You came to us two autumns ago. Do you not remember how the sky looks in the spring?"

"Indeed," she answered, and then smiled at him. "But today, the sun seems brighter than before." Was it her smile again, that was making his heart beat so strangely? Many battles he had fought, against foes that would have made lesser men flee, and yet fear had never made his heart beat so fast as it did now. He looked down at the white blossoms in his lap until the feeling subsided.

"There, done." Turin grasped Niniel's slender hand to pull her into a sitting position, and then set a wreath of white apple blossoms on her head. She looked like an elf-maiden: her hair a river of gold crowned with ivory, and she was, Turin realized, very beautiful. Like Finduilas, a voice in his mind whispered. Like your sister. You should stop now, before it is too late, before your doom spreads to poison her too. Turin shook his head, forcing painful memories away. Such dark thoughts did not belong here, here in the light that was Niniel.

Niniel was exclaiming over the wreath. "Turambar, it's lovely! I didn't know you could make something like this! It looks like you've had lots of practice!" She looked at him from under her lashes, her eyes twinkling. "I do believe that's what you were doing out here all yesterday afternoon, making these! When you wouldn't let me go on a walk with you!" She laughed. "The warrior, out here picking flowers. I would have loved to see it!"

Turin knew he was blushing. Before he could be teased further, he reached out swiftly and took her hand, bringing it to his lips.

"I wanted it to be perfect for you." He let his hand drop, but kept his fingers entwined with hers. They were sitting so close he could smell the fragrance of the garland of apple blossoms. Slowly, very slowly, he leaned forward, and brushed his lips against hers. Hesitatingly, slender arms reached around him to hold him tightly.

They stayed that way for a long moment. Turin was aware of nothing but Niniel, warm in his arms. Holding her, he found the words he had been looking for.

"I love you." Her heart was beating against his, the same soft melody. When she replied, it was in the barest whisper, somewhere near his ear.

"And I you."

Sighing into her hair, Turin felt as though a great weight had been lifted from him. Niniel, with her way of seeing everything as though it were new, was right. The sun had never shown so brightly as it had today: bright enough, he though, so that the shadow that has haunted my steps will be no more. Surely I am free of the curse upon me. Now, I am Turambar. I am master of my own fate, and no doom shall fall on Niniel nor I.


End file.
